


when the tears start flowing (it's best to let them go)

by siradope



Series: tell me, do you love me? [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Sad Ending, everyone in karasuno appears at least once - Freeform, except kiyoko rip - Freeform, oh golly!!!, theyre gonna be 2nd years soon!!, timeline is near the end of the school year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 04:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siradope/pseuds/siradope
Summary: There is a moment where everything stops. You hear his words, you can see his guilt, but you can’t register anything else but the pain.





	

> _Hanahaki Byou. It is a disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love. The disease will be cured if the victim's love returns their feelings. It can also be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's memories and romantic feelings for their love also disappear._

  


* * *

* * *

  


It was always hard for you to keep the petals in during practice.

  


The itch at the back of your throat always starts out small and bearable, and you are able to practice with your partner for a little while without having to worry. Slowly but steady, the itch increases and the urge to cough becomes stronger by the minute. Sometimes it comes to the point where you dash outside without any explanation and throw up in the bushes. It felt how everyone would think it would feel like: terrible.

  


But now, as you clutched your stomach, you figured that this was the most pain you’ve felt in your entire life.

   


You hastily stand up straight and bow to Coach Ukai, excusing yourself to the bathroom for the third time that day. You could feel your teammates’ stares burning your back as you rushed out as fast as you could.

   


You stumble and catch yourself on the bathroom sink, retching out not your usual primroses and camellias, but daffodils, ( _They mean unrequited love,_  your mind supplied.) until there was no more. Your knees give out and you sink down to the tiles, silently sobbing and hopelessly wishing the pain away.

   


You weren’t an idiot. You knew your throat was closing up everyday, little by little, petal by petal. You could feel the petals growing in your lungs and branching until there will be no more room for air, when the only other option is death.

  


(You romanticize death like it’s your lover, and every time you do, it slowly becomes more of a memory than a thought.

  


Honestly, there is nothing you could do to stop it.)

  


You hear the door open, one of your teammates placing a comforting hand on your back. You don’t have to look up to know it is Sugawara.

   


Sugawara is a good person, a good listener, and the only one on the team to know why you excuse yourself so many times. You confide in him the same way he condifes in you, and you trust him like you would trust your own family. He hugs you, makes sure you walk back to the gym in a good mood, and never leaves without saying words of comfort. Sometimes, he’d also spit out his own petals; white amaryllises.

   


(Above everything else, he made you feel like you weren’t alone.

   


You wished you fell in love with Sugawara Koushi instead, because he deserves all the love for everything he does for you.)

   


“Again?” His soft voice asks. His hands rub soothing circles on your back.

   


“It was the third time today,” you respond. “And they weren’t primroses or camellias this time. They were daffodils.”

   


He hums. “Daffodils mean unrequited love, right?”

  


“I think.” Your voice cracks and you cough out another petal. A tear slides down your cheek. “My chest hurts. I want it to stop.”

  


_‘Why won’t it stop?’_ you wanted to scream. _‘Why was I cursed with this disease? Why?_ Why? _’_

  


The moment you start wheezing Sugawara immediately circles his arms around you. “I know, I know. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it that way. I want it to stop too.”

  


You hug him back and you and your senior curl up together, relishing in the feeling of each other’s warmth and denying the horrors of reality.

  


* * *

  


When you wake up you find moonflower petals on your pillows again. You take your time in arranging your bed and make no rush to fix yourself.

  


The boy that usually walked and raced you to school shot you a strange look but challenged you to another race as always anyway. You were glad he was acting the same as he did every day, even if he knows that something was wrong. At least then he wouldn’t look at you the way you  _know_  he would if he knew exactly what was wrong with you.

  


By the time you had reached school, these thoughts were already gone from your head and you were distracted by the loud beating in your heart (not necessarily from the race) and the urge to throw up petals again.

  


He weakly shot his fist up in silent cheer. “173 wins and…172 looses for me,” he panted. “ _I_  win this time.”

  


“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you huffed. “Rematch tomorrow morning.”

  


“You _always_ want a rematch,” he retorted.

  


He slides the door to the clubroom open, and you pinch his side and run inside before he could do the same. He shoots you an annoyed stare and swats at you when you try to get closer. You hold in your snicker and change into your gym clothes.

  


You hear the door slide open again and you look to see the third years entering the clubroom. Daichi greets you with a friendly pat on the back, Asahi smiles at you while he ties up his hair, and Sugawara gives you a one-armed hug that lasted a second too long.

  


He pats your shoulder and pushes you towards your gym bag near the doors. You glare at him playfully and gather your stuff, making your way to the gym. Down the stairs, you see Tanaka, who was arguing with Nishinoya on which drink to get in the vending machine. They greet you with a nod and a wave and resume their arguing. Behind them, Ennoshita glares at them to,  _‘Hurry up; Daichi will get mad if we’re late again!’_  You pass by him and encourage him with a small smile and he gives you a tired one in return.

  


The walk to the gym is slow, mainly because you wanted to look at the flowers on the ground to see if you coughed them up already. You noticed that most of them were milkweeds, dainty little bundles of flowers. You made a mental note to ask Sugawara what they meant.

  


You open the doors to the gym to see Yamaguchi practicing his jump serves and jump float serves, Tsukishima fiddling with a ball near the trolley, and your partner arranging the net in the wrong way. He struggles with the net with a frustrated look on his face. You roll your eyes.

   


“You’re doing it wrong.”

  


“I am?” He blinked. “Oh…sorry.”

  


You quietly grab the rope from his hands, tying it properly and trying not to meet his eyes, because you’re certain that the moment you do you’ll be hurling flowers in no time.

  


“You went without me,” you noted. He jumped, but there was no particular malice in your voice. Your eyes glanced to the side briefly to peek at his expression.

  


Was he pouting?  

  


“You were busy with Suga and I didn’t want to interrupt you, so…”

  


Yes. Yes, he  _was_ pouting. You tried not to think about how cute that expression looked on him.

  


“Stupid.  _You’re_  my partner, not Suga.”

  


“You make it sound like we’re in a cowboy movie.”

  


“Sh-shut up!”

  


How the hell was  _he_  the person that made your heart flutter?

  


* * *

  


The days following, you counted the times you were nearly caught coughing by a teammate that wasn’t Sugawara.

  


The first was with Tanaka, when he suddenly burst in the restroom in the middle of your coughing to fetch you. You hurriedly stuffed the red camellia petals in the trash bin under the sink and pretended to be washing your face. You didn’t think he believed it, but you were glad he deemed it not important as of the moment.

  


The next one was with Asahi, when you were hacking out primroses in the bushes. The gentle giant had to fetch a ball that bounced outside and caught you doubled over in pain. You managed to convince him you were only throwing up because you ate too many meat buns the day before, but it got you benched the entire practice.

  


The third time was when you actually got caught. You were outside coughing petals again (blue periwinkles this time) while Sugawara covered for you. You hadn’t expected the captain of the team to step out for fresh air, and you certainly hadn’t noticed him until it was too late. Sugawara burst out from the gym as well; spurting out a surprisingly believable lie, but you placed a hand on his shoulder and shook your head. It was better if Daichi knew.

  


This leads you to the present; you, Sugawara, and Daichi seated together in Sugawara’s house, waiting for the tea his mother was preparing. Daichi was perfectly still, calm and collected, whereas you were the complete opposite. You fiddled with your gym clothes and twitched nervously, even as Sugawara’s hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. It reminded you of the first time you openly cried in front of him and it didn’t make you any less nervous.

  


You could feel Daichi’s stare on you, not necessarily as strong as Tanaka’s or Nishinoya’s, but something akin to a parent waiting for their child to fess up something they’ve done wrong.

  


Sugawara’s mother chose this moment to enter the room, setting down three cups of tea. You thanked her, and she smiled at you in encouragement before leaving the room. You noticed she didn’t utter a single word the entire time you and Daichi were here and sent Sugawara a confused stare. He smiled at you as if he knew what you were confused about.

  


“My mom is mute,” he explained. “She’s been mute since birth, actually. I don’t really mind it, and neither does she. We can still communicate.”

  


Your face flushes in embarrassment and you hurriedly apologize to him for asking. Sugawara waves his arms and says it isn’t a problem, but you don’t believe him and continue to apologize. Beside you, Daichi clears his throat and you and Sugawara look up from your chat. He smiles softly at you and gently assures that he isn’t mad at all. Your muscles relax.

  


“I don't want to force you to tell me immediately, but…please,” he begs, noticably concerned. “The whole team’s noticed something off about your behaviour for the past few months and we’re  _worried_. I was hoping your stomach wasn’t feeling well because of the meat buns, we could accept that, but-but I never thought it would be something this serious.”

  


Throughout his discourse, you found your hands the most interesting thing in the world. Sugawara’s hand, you realized, was still on your back. You found both comfort and fear in this.

  


Your eyes look up to meet Daichi’s worried ones. He gives you a nod and you fix yourself on your seat to start explaining properly. Sugawara applies light pressure on your back, giving you one last chance to back out. You decline.

  


“I know you’ve already figured by now, but yeah…I have the Hanahaki disease.”

  


“Do you know exactly when you got it?” Daichi inquires. You gulp.

  


“A-about five months ago?”

  


“Five months-” he gasps. “That long? You’ve had it for that long and  _you never told us?”_

  


“I told Suga!” you argue.

  


He gives you a hard stare. “Suga doesn’t count. You never told your  _parents._ ”

  


There is it, one of the questions you desperately wanted to avoid. You wished the earth would swallow you. “My mom’s on a business trip. She’s always on business trips. My dad…he’s dead. He’s been dead since I was 9.”

  


Both faces of the seniors pale, but before they could apologize you add, “He was busy most of my childhood and it was only my mom that took proper care of me, so we weren’t really that close. I understand he’s my father and I miss him, but my family is doing perfectly fine even without him.”

  


Daichi looks like he lets it go, but you aren’t oblivious and notice the worried glances he sends you every now and then. Sugawara isn’t even trying to hide it. The hand on your back was gone and instead he wraps his arm around your torso, his hand holding your shoulder in a tight grip. He only lets go when Daichi gives him a firm stare.

  


“You’re making him nervous,” he says. Sugawara hesitantly lets go of the hug and grasps your hand instead. 

  


(You could see him trying to swallow back his own flowers. Daichi is clueless to his struggle.)

   


“Can we continue?” you mutter. “I don’t really want to stay on this topic.”

  


Sugawara gives you a smile. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

  


The younger third year clears his throat. “Now, I’m not asking you to tell the team, but you can’t go through this alone. We need some sort of signal to know when you need to cough out flowers so we can help you get out without suspicion.”

   


“What about sentences?” Sugawara suggests. “He can say a certain sentence that’s not suspicious, somewhat of a code that rates how high the pain is, and we can help him get out of there.”

   


Daichi nods in agreement. “That’s a good suggestion. We could use that. The only problem now is  _how_  we’ll get him out…”

  


A tense silence settles over the room. Both Daichi and Sugawara look deep in thought, thinking of ways to help you; at least a small suggestion. These people were sacrificing their own time, a very precious thing, to help you in your dilemma. Granted, Sugawara was there from the start, but that didn’t mean you don’t acknowledge the effort Daichi is putting into helping you right now.

  


Different emotions burst in your chest and you feel tears welling up. Daichi is the first to notice. He nudges Sugawara and they both look at you in confusion and worry when the tears start flowing. You sob with a grateful smile on your face, and you pull Sugawara into a hug.

  


“Thank you,” you hiccup. “Thank you for doing so much for me.”

  


Sugawara is surprised for only a millisecond before he returns your hug. Daichi stands up from his chair to join the hug. You are squished between the captain and the co-captain, and this reminds you of a close-knitted family, for some reason. You don’t mind at all.

  


“We don’t have to discuss everything tonight.” Daichi’s voice is muffled from Sugawara’s shirt. “We don’t want to rush you. We’ll take the pace the way you want it, okay?”

  


You nod, unable to form any more words from the overwhelming gratitude you feel for your seniors. You could see why Sugawara fell for someone like Daichi.

  


* * *

  


Daichi and Sugawara keep their promise of taking it slow. They don’t force you to do anything or tell anything. They comfort you, help you cough out your flowers, and do everything they could to help you through your disease.

 

For this, you sigh in relief, not even knowing you were holding your breath in worry.

  


It seemed the entire team had noticed your change of mood as well. Tanaka exclaimed happily how he was glad his junior was back to normal, as did Nishinoya. Ennoshita told his fellow second years that he wouldn’t help with their homework if they didn’t calm down. He and Kinoshita nod and Narita gives you a big thumbs up. Asahi did nothing but smile wide and clap your shoulder. Tsukishima, a jerk as he always was, snidely remarked how  _‘Your mood suddenly changed, did Mama Crow and Papa Crow make you tell them what was wrong so they can make everything better?’_  and Yamaguchi snickered with him.

  


You told him to shut up.

  


But although you had gotten better over the weekend, the day after that, your partner never looked worse. His hair was tousled (more than it usually was after volleyball practice) and he barely glared at Tsukishima anymore when he insulted him. It has the whole team worried all over again. Daichi and Sugawara both ask you if you want them to handle it, but you didn’t like the idea of someone else knowing what was wrong with your partner before you did. The two respect your decision and back off.

  


You wait until the end of the week, when you know he has to pick up his sibling’s favorite snack from Ukai’s store. You tag along with him.

  


You know he isn’t dumb. You’ve never thought he was dumb, even with all the insults thrown back and forth at each other. This is probably the reason why he was glaring at you right now and why you weren’t all that surprised he finds out you aren’t tagging along for nothing.

  


“What are you really here for?” he demands. “Are you here to mock me? That I wasn’t myself today and you don’t want me on the team anymore?”

  


You splutter. “What? N- _no,_  idiot, I was  _worried_  about you! I even asked Suga and Daichi to back off so I could ask you myself!”

  


He deflates instantly, and you support him on your walk to his house. It’s farther than you realized, and by the time you arrive your feet are aching. (Both from practice and the walking.)

  


Your partner drops his bag and announces his arrival. You do the same. No little bundle of joy comes running at you, so you assume his mother and sibling aren’t home yet. You grab his hand, despite his protests, and drag him to his room. He puts up no fight and with that you are concerned for him again.

  


He closes the door lightly and slides down to the floor. Your feet move automatically and you find yourself seated next to him. You place a hand on his back and you are surprised to see him crying.

  


“Am I a burden to you?” he quietly asks. “Do I annoy you to the point where you don’t want us to be friends anymore?”

  


You wanted to scream.  _‘Yes, you are completely right. You annoy me and I don’t wanna be friends anymore. I want to be something more, stupid, I_ love  _you!’_

  


Instead, what came out of your mouth was, “Of course you annoy me. I annoy you too, and you still want to be friends, don’t you?”

  


His lips twitch up slightly. “You’re horrible at comforting.”

  


“Shut up. I’m trying.”

   


He snickers at the face you’re making at him. It seems that you never really needed to say anything to cheer him up. He leans against your head, and you supposed it was just his out of control emotions at the moment that cause him to be this way with you. You could feel the flowers prodding at your throat again.

  


“Maybe I didn’t really have to worry about anything after all,” he murmurs. “We promised each other, didn’t we?”

  


You felt the petals coming up.

  


_No._

  


“As long as I’m here,”

  


_Not now,_  you beg.  _Please, please, not here, not now!_

  


“You’re invincible.”

  


Tears prickle your eyes as you nearly fall forwards, clutching your stomach in pain. You are well aware of the surprised yelp your partner gives, but you don’t dare look up to him when you start retching out the petals.

  


The first thing you register about them is that there is an actual flower in your throat this time, instead of just petals. The stem is thin, and the flower itself feels small in your mouth. You recognize them as campion roses, but the meaning of the flower is lost in your hazy mind. You cough out every last one, until nothing is left and you are free from the pain.

  


You feel a hand hold your own and you are very much aware that your partner is leading you from the floor to his bed. He sits you down and makes sure you are comfortable, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. You feel your face heat up.

  


“Hey,” he whispers. You glance up to him. The first thing you see his small, encouraging smile; he isn’t judging you, he isn’t looking at you like a freak, and the smile is directed  _right at_ you and that is enough to make tears fall from your eyes.

  


“Hey,” he says again, louder this time. “Don’t cry. We don’t have to talk about it now. Let’s talk in the morning and call it a day, ‘kay?”

  


You nod numbly and reach for your phone to call your mother.  _She must’ve been worried sick,_ you think, and suddenly you feel very guilty.

  


When you explain everything to her and she allows you to stay over, you change into the clothes your partner laid out for you (You note that his old clothes are surprisingly comfortable, albeit small.) and settle in. You offer to sleep on the spare futon he has, but he refuses and forces you to sleep on the bed with him. Your face flushes for the second time that night.

  


When he is comfortable, he nudges you with his foot. “Goodnight,” he tells you.

  


“Goodnight,” you respond.  _I love you,_ you wanted to say. You don't say it.

  


His breathing evens out in mere minutes, and his face is so close you could see the tiny freckles on his cheeks and nose; something you’ve never noticed before. You kiss his forehead, turning away almost immediately and drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

  


When you wake up, the first thing you notice is your partner’s arm clinging onto you like his life line, and his head is leaning against yours. You smile at his peaceful face, and press another kiss on his forehead. He lightly scrunches up his nose in the adorable way he does when he’s annoyed. You snort.

  


Looking down at him, your peaceful best friend, you finally remember what the campion roses mean.

  


“You deserve my love and everything more,” you tell him softly, but it isn’t as if he could hear you.

  


You don’t notice the way his cheeks are tinged with pink, nor the way he clenches his fist in guilt.

  


His hands twitch, and you swiftly get up, stretching and nearly nailing him in the head. He sleepily swats at you.

  


After you take a much needed shower, your best friend hands you clothes that are warm and cozy and it takes you a minute to realized that these are the clothes you forgot to bring home the last time you came over. You blush when you realize that it smelled like him. _He must’ve worn it, then._ You blush harder when it occurs to you that you wouldn’t mind seeing him in your clothes.

  


Your partner gives you a strange look at your beet-red face when you exit but he doesn’t question it.

  


You go down the stairs to see breakfast already settled on the table, his mother smiling warmly at you. You bow to her, but she laughs heartily.

  


“I told you, treat me like your own mother,” she reprimands. “You’ve came over more than ten times already, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t the last time we’ll be seeing each other.” She winks and you try to stutter out a reply, resisting the urge to hide behind your hands, and you are forever grateful when your best friend comes to your rescue.

  


He greets you cheerfully and pulls you to the table with him, belching out a hearty _‘Let’s eat!’_ before digging into his food. You follow suit and eat the raw egg with rice, slower than you usually eat. Your stomach churns when you remember your agreement the night before. You were going to have a talk with your partner today.

  


About your disease.

  


And your feelings.

  


With him.

   


Alone.

  


You finish your food quickly and excuse yourself, your best friend and his mother sending you confused looks, but you don’t dare look back. At the corner of your eye, you see him excuse himself as well and rush after you. You both end up in his backyard, spinning a volleyball in your hands and avoiding eye contact with each other.

  


“How long?” he asks. He’s looking at you like you’re fragile, like you’re something that could be broken in one touch and you _hate it._

  


“By now? Nearly three and a half months,” you mumble. You hear a surprised gasp beside you, but you still refuse to look at him. He huffs and stands up, plopping himself in front of you.

  


“Do you still not want to talk about this?”

  


You don’t answer him.

  


“Say _something_ , okay? I have to know if I’m pushing too far. I can’t really do that if you aren’t actually _talking to me_.”

  


You keep your lips firmly shut.

  


He snaps. “The silence is getting really annoying, so could you _please_ -”

  


“Do you love me back?”

  


You know your question shocks him, and you see from the way he stills and he draws away from you immediately. Even so, you hope with all your heart that there was a chance he loved you back.

  


(Although deep down, you know you’re lying to yourself.)

  


His face flushes and he looks down with a guilty expression. His mouth opens and closes and he fidgets in his place. He looks you in the eye only for a few seconds.

  


“I don’t love you, Kageyama.”

  


You still. There is a moment where everything stops. You hear his words, you can see his guilt, but you can’t register anything else but the pain.

  


His hand is reaching out to you and his mouth is moving, but you can’t hear his voice. You slap his hand away.

  


“I see,” you manage. “Please excuse me.”

  


You angrily wipe your tears away. You refuse to let your best friend see you this weak. You storm outside and did the best thing you could’ve done; you ran. You ran past his mother and ran from his house. You ran from _Shouyou_ and you try to run from your feelings, but you always seemed to get tangled in the stems of your flowers _._

  


_‘Idiot,’_ you reprimand yourself. _‘Idiot, idiot, idiot_. _You already knew this. You_ already knew this, _and yet you still…_ ’

  


You keep running, wiping your tears away, willing your tired legs to keep going. His voice is still there; in your head and in real life, begging you to come back. Really, the whole thing is a blur and you can only remember his words in your head.

  


_“I don’t love you.”_

  


You let out a sob, nearly tripping on the cracks of the sidewalk. In no time, Shouyou catches up to you and you know it’s not the time, but you laugh at how ironically beautiful he looks even when he’s crying.

   


He nearly throws himself at your feet. “I'm sorry I don’t like you back the way you like me, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m hurting you. You could get surgery and remove the petals, then you’d be fine, right? Right? Please, please, _please_ remove the petals.”

  


It’s almost pitiful how he begs you to remove your feelings for him. You shake your head with a smile.

  


“No,” you tell him. “I don’t want to remove these feelings and memories of you. It’s all worth it.”

  


“You’ll _die!_ ” He screams. He tugs on your hand as more tears stream down his face.

  


You cry, gently pushing him away from you. “Then I’ll die.”

  


(But this would be impossible, since you’ve already died on the inside from his rejection to begin with.)

  


You run and run and run from him, unknowingly going down the road towards Karasuno. Tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, but you don’t bother wiping them away.

  


You trip and fall on the cracks, not even bothering to get back up.

  


_This was all your fault, wasn’t it? Now your friendship with him is ruined, and volleyball won’t be the same with the awkwardness in the air. It’ll all be different and it’s_ your fault-

  


A hand places itself on your shoulder, and you look up to see Yachi Hitoka, surprisingly. You hurriedly wipe your tears, refusing to let a teammate see you weak, and before you could ask what she was doing so early, Yachi stops you with a small smile. She doesn't say anything and helps you get on your feet, wordlessly directing you towards your home.

   


(You keep your gaze on the ground the entire walk and you can’t help but notice the little heart-shaped band-aids on her ankle. You find it heartwarmingly adorable and it slightly cheers you up.)

   


Yachi holds your hand and stutters out little phrases and reassurances to try to comfort you while walking. It isn’t until you are at the doorstep does she speak clearly for the first time.

  


“I’m...I'm staying with you.”

  


You still in surprise. “Excuse me?”

  


Yachi stares up at you, gaze fiery. You nearly take a step back with her surprising sudden change of character. “Y-you’re not well and I _know_ you need help. Kageyama Tobio, _I’m staying over with you_ and I am not accepting ‘no’ for an answer.”

   


Her voice is strong and there is no room for argument. You agree to let her stay over for the night and enter your house, mumbling your greetings and hearing Yachi do the same. She sets down her bag and makes her way towards your bathroom to change. You lend her your shirt, and she accepts it gratefully. She giggles when the shirt reaches her knees.

  


You arrange her futon while she explains things to her mom, pacing back and forth. When she finally turns off her phone you are on your bed, and when she sits beside you to give you a hug, you start to cry.

  


You cry many, many tears and you lose all sense of time and pride. The flowers never seemed to stop coming, and you are forever grateful to Yachi for staying with you at such a fragile time. Striped carnations spill from your mouth, beautiful flowers, but you had always loathed what they meant.

  


_Gentle rejection._

  


Was there even such a thing as a gentle rejection? What would be so gentle about rejections if they _hurt this much?_

  


Shouyou didn’t even have to talk to confirm the rejection; you had already known by the look on his face. Could you blame him, though? It wasn’t as if you were someone easy to love; you knew that. It was stupid of you to even hope you’d have a chance to stand with him.

  


“Dumbass…” you mutter. It was directed at yourself more than it was towards Shouyou.

  


Your tears stop rolling down your cheeks at some point, and by the time it does, it was already late and the stars were twinkling high in the sky.

  


Yachi rubs your back. “Are you alright now, Kageyama?”

  


“Yes,” you sniffle. “thank you, Yachi.”

  


She rolls her eyes playfully. “Call me ‘Hitoka.’ ‘Yachi’ makes us sound like strangers.”

  


You grin weakly. “I could say the same for you. Call me ‘Tobio.’”

  


She smiles back and rearranges her position, discarding the futon on the floor and choosing to stay with you on your bed. She lays her head on your chest and keeps holding your hand, refusing to let go. Her thumb rubs circles on your skin while her other hand plays with your hair. She whispers nonsense and phrases from English class (You don't mind it. Something about the foreign language relaxes you.) and you lay in the comfortable semi-silence.

  


“Tobio?”

  


You hum in answer.

  


“Is it okay for me to tell Sugawara about this?”

  


You hum in affirmation. She takes her phone from the nightstand and texts the senior. Your eyes squint with the sudden brightness and you childishly hide your face in Hitoka’s shoulder. She giggles.

  


Sugawara calls you back somewhere in the crack of dawn while Hitoka is playing with your hair. Your phone on your nightstand lit up as a happy little tune surrounds your room. You recognized it as the ringtone Shouyou set when he stole your phone in practice. You ended up keeping it out of endearment. Several of your tears fall on the screen and you curse, hurriedly wiping it away. Although your heart still hurts and you are still crying and hurting, you answer the call.

  


“Hello?” Sugawara’s voice replaced your ringtone, never failing to sooth your nerves. Hitoka stares curiously.

  


_Who is it?_ She mouthed.

  


_It’s Suga,_ you mouth back. She nods and makes herself comfortable again. You turn back your attention to Sugawara.

  


Sugawara bombards you with questions too quickly, and you have to ask him to repeat what he said. “I received Yachi’s text. What happened? Are you alright, Kageyama?”

  


“Hitoka came over to help me. I’m fine now, Suga,” you reassure him, smiling softly even though he can’t see you.

  


“But _…?”_ He prods.

  


You lose your smile, choosing to lay on Hitoka’s lap. She squeaks, but she doesn’t push you off. You sigh. “…it hurts. It still _hurts_ …”

  


No more words were exchanged after he promises you to come over the next weekend. You give him permission fill Daichi in and continue cuddling with Hitoka, falling into slumber seconds later.

  


* * *

  


When the sun is high in the sky, you open your eyes to see striped carnations on the sheets and a girl in your bed with her hand gripping yours.

  


You smile as you daydream, your imagination giving you numerous things to think about in the early morning, but somehow, you always end up dreaming about Shouyou and what could have been.

  


You imagine a boy with orange hair and a smile that shines brighter than the sun. You imagine his smile when he wakes up to your face, and the immense joy of being in each other’s company. You imagine marrying him, adopting a beautiful girl to watch her grow up and marry another beautiful girl. You imagine your deathbed, your husband holding your hand, smiling and crying tears of satisfaction and telling you, _“We had a good run. I’ll see you again soon, I love you.”_

  


You return to the present, where a girl is in your bed and there are petals of your pain on your sheets.

  


_“I don’t love you.”_

  


You end up crying again.

**Author's Note:**

> Flower Meanings  
> • Primroses - I can't live without you  
> • Camellias - Admiration; perfection  
> • Daffodils - Unrequited love  
> • White Amaryllis - Splendid beauty  
> • Moonflower - Dreaming of love  
> • Red Camellias - You're a flame in my heart  
> • Blue Periwinkle - Early attachment  
> • Rose Campion - Only you deserve my love  
> • Striped Carnation - Gentle rejection
> 
>  
> 
> hi!!
> 
> i hope yall enjoyed this fic because this took me more than three whole months to outline, draft, write and revise without anyone's help :^)
> 
> anyways, the next part of this will probs take an even longer time to write :^)))
> 
> bUT FEAR NOT I WILL GET IT DONE!!
> 
> (and this time it will be in Hinata's POV ;00)
> 
> sEE YALLS LATER--


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